Laws of Attraction

The last of the evening's sun was streaming in through the glass window panes. She had never entered his study. Ambrosia stood admiring the enviable collection of books propped up on the vast shelves that snaked their way around the entire room. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers over the meticulously arranged books. Her eyes skimmed the titles one by one as she did so. An unabridged version of 'The Age of Innocence' caught her attention. She carefully removed the Edith Wharton classic from the space where it was perfectly wedged. Looking at the seemingly aged hard bound cover and the many years that it hid behind its yellowed pages, she couldn't resist. Closing her eyes, she pressed the open book to her nose and took a whiff. The smell of old books was something she cherished a lot. Oblivious to her surroundings, she was unaware of Tarquinius who stood a few feet behind her, his eyes sweeping down her delicate form.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat loudly. She whirled around in surprise and dropped the book from her hands. She froze momentarily. She wondered for how long had he been standing there and whether he had just witnessed her silly book-sniffing episode. 

He had.

She stood there looking like a frightened little kitten. He found her adorable. He saw the book she had dropped lying on the floor. Fighting back a smile, he marched forward. Breaking out of her reverie, she remembered about the book still lying a few inches away from her feet. Before she could do something about it, Tarquinius had retrieved it. He now held it in his hand and looked at her. Sensing her hesitation, he covered the distance between them in two languid movements. He now held the book in front of her. 

"It's one of my favorites too," he revealed. 

She looked up at him for a moment before averting her gaze. Staring into his eyes always made her nervous. She gingerly took it from his hands and as she did do, she accidentally brushed her fingers along his. Startled, she looked up again into his eyes but this time she couldn't look away. A strange yet familiar sensation passed through them. That electricity that she had always shied away from and that he could resist no more. He took a step towards her backing her up against the shelf, all the while never taking his eyes off her. He placed his arms on either side of her waist trapping her effectively. There was nowhere else to go. His eyes held her captive. There was something in them she couldn't ignore. Her scent clouded his head as he leaned in. They were attracted to each other like a moth to the fly. Like the lion to the lamb. Like iron and magnets. Reason and logic melted away. A soft, faint thud resounded as the book hit the floor again... 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

A Friend

He had created happiness and prosperity, love and adversity, pain and good health, good times and the bad ones, great fortunes and dismal ones, intricate stories of people who were still to bear fruition from The Tree of Life.

As God gazed upon the Earth from the highest of Heavens, He knew something very crucial was missing.

"Someone who will be a part of a whole, someone to share, to cherish and to hold, someone who will stand by come what may, someone who vows to be there night and day…"

And with a flash that blinded the sky for a while, He created something that was indispensable to human life.

"A Friend…", He smiled.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Dedicated to my lovely comrades - Shruthi, Shanta, Nidhi, Shubham and Ankit :)

The Secret

 

A fairytale romance.

That's what they had called it in the papers.

But to be with him was to be doomed for eternity. She found out the hard way. She had known it deep down from the beginning that there was something off about him. He was mysterious. That was a part of his unavoidable charisma. There were times when he'd clamp shut like an oyster from everyone. Even her. She was his cure-all, if only for a while. The day she held his hand, she had shown him a dream so bright, it brought tears in his cold blue eyes. She led him towards light. There were moments where her company filled him with hope. There were times when he thought he could be mended. He was happy and afraid. Because he knew this was a mirage. He would lose her as soon as she came to know of the sunless countenance he so very skillfully hid underneath.

He had never wanted to hurt her. But she stumbled upon something that he had painstakingly kept under wraps all these years.

It had started with animals. Almost all serial killers – in fact, 99% of them – admitted that they started by acting out their violent fantasies on animals before graduating to human beings. It provided an escape to his murky reality. He grew up motherless. The first man he came across in his life, was his abusive and alcoholic father. He drank till he could not get another drop down his throat and then projected his rage on his sons. One of them died under his harsh ways. To everyone on the outside, he was a stalwart in the field of medicine, to him he was the most cruel human being ever.

When she found out what he had done to people, countless people, she couldn't take it. She killed herself. His only light in his dispirited world. Gone. Forever. Shrouding him in darkness for as long as he lived. Leaving him with the monster residing inside him. To live with her memories. He wakes up at night with remnants of her dreams on his pillow. His house still perfumes with her sweetness. Or maybe this hallucination is his poor attempt at reveling in something beautiful that he had. Almost had. He had lost his only ray of hope.

The only solace being, the secret remained. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. 

You...

I walk my lonely world with you in my head, 

Recollections of pleasant days, 

Fortunate to have their memories at least, 

If not the content your company gave me. 

Sometimes you are the painful lump in my throat,
Searching for a quiet corner to unburden, 

Sometimes you are the ghost in front of my eyes, 

I want to see you everywhere. 

Sometimes you are the language in my muted speech, 

Falling on ears that don't exist,
Sometimes you are the fierce need scorching my soul, 

Assuming its own stubborn identity. 

I stumble through my lonely world with you in my head, 

Reminiscing what once seemed like a possibility, 

The memories that soon turned to a curse, 

To haunt me day after day...

Hopelessness

Another day of dejection,

Another night wrought with desperation,
Staring in the vacant eyes of gloom,

Reminiscing days when they were in full bloom,

A heart riddled with melancholy,

Too strong to drown in self-pity,

A brave countenance to fight the dispiritedness,

Underneath lies the poison of distress,

The hands of time they go on ticking,

The epidemic of desolation fast approaching,

As far as the eyes dare to wander,
Blinding nothingness greeting further,

Silent sobs unheard in this pandemonium,

Misery achingly inching towards pessimism,

Empty beds, reeking of scents long gone,

Devoid of warmth they're cold & forlorn,
Every corner of the house breeds its own ghosts,

Every nook a memorial guarded by different woes,

Lapping upon the soul's shore, a constant question,

Asking for this agony to end, begging for cessation,

That familiar weeping sting to indefinitely remain,

Laying the weary head to rest only to begin again...

Feline Fantasy

The following post is an imagined rumination from a cat's POV.

"Do u speak Cat? Because I do. Me? I'm a no-name slob. The fur ball in Breakfast At Tiffany's was a part of a long line of cousins and I'm spreading my paw prints all over this blog for now. As I'm perched here I mull over the age-old debate about cats vs. dogs. Let me tell you it's a myth. Okay, so we're not the thickest of buddies but we're also not genetically induced to hate each other either. This was some story concocted by these humans. That is what they do. They get bored and are never content with anything so they propound baseless theories & make even more ridiculous movies about them. Human beings just can't handle the fact that we're different than dogs. They like animals that they can train, command and control. They want someone who will obey them. Behave as they please. Just because we have a mind of our own, we're deemed as selfish? Our inability to conform and submit doesn't earn us extra brownie points.
I ask all dog lovers, how & why do you on one hand call them 'A Man's Best Friend' and on the other hand reduce that same being to the status of a slang or an expletive? Isn't that selfish? 

But we're all real cool cucumbers actually. We know how to handle things alright. Only when things get a tad too much, do we ever resort to a 'Cat Fight' (pun intended). Oh and we ALL love Halle Berry..." ;)

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Notelettes...

Counting your heartbeats,

That's how I'll spend my day,

An era of solace in your arms,

Listening to your breaths,

Conquered by your love…

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

P.S.: The image above is also one of my creations... :)